I Did Not Know You

I overheard a telephone conversation in an airport the other day -- or rather, I overheard one half of the conversation.

"Did you tell them to call you at my number? They called me, asking for you. I didn't know what they wanted, so I told them I didn't know you."

I thought of the story I had just finished reading, a story of slaves, and I thought of how the safety of a slave lies in unfailing loyalty to his own kind, and to silence. The slave does not converse with his master; he does not collaborate with his master; he does not confide in his master. For being powerless, and having no friends among the powerful, what shall be his recourse if his master betrays his trust in even the smallest thing?

I heard the words again: "I did not know what they wanted, so I told them I did not know you." And I thought, "These are the words of a slave."

Then I was sad for my country, and ashamed, to think that among us are those who have learned, no doubt through bitter lessons, instinctively to relate to one another in this way.

The Other Guy Running for California Governor

Jerry's talking up his record and style of leadership.

Meg's describing her policy action plan.

Steve's scapegoating immigrants and donning the mantle of conservatism.

Steve Poizner's been around the political block before, and I presume he feels that he's engaged in the kind of debate that best serves the people of California. Kudos to Ms. Whitman for telling a different story. But she's new to politics; maybe she just doesn't understand yet how the game is played in a Republican primary these days.

We had to listen to a lot of this "I'm the true conservative! Nuh-uh!" in the 2008 primaries too. When did the party of Lincoln stop being the party of bold vision and courageous leadership and become the party of fear and of political litmus tests? Gentlemen, Mr. Lincoln would not know you. Forget Lincoln -- Mr. Reagan would not know you.

Try and Try Again

One of the big political stories of this past week is the possibility that the Obama administration might change course on trying alleged 9/11 mastermind Khalid Sheik Mohammed in a military tribunal instead of in a civilian trial. If you look at this case in isolation, this move might make sense: here's a guy who planned and executed an attack that resulted in battlefield-scale casualties, and did so from a foreign country with which we subsequently went to war in response to that attack. Sounds like a military act, not a civilian criminal act, right? But I would argue that "in isolation" is precisely not how we should look at this case.

A government cannot devise an entirely new system and standard of justice on a case-by-case basis and retain any claim to a rule of law. The question is therefore not, "How shall we try Khalid Sheik Mohammed?" The question is "How shall we try all people accused of crimes of terrorism?" Is terrorism a crime like all others, to be tried according to the standards of justice that hold for all alleged crimes -- or is it in a separate legal category, to which very different standards apply?

The trouble with the latter approach -- with applying different legal standards to terrorism cases than we do to other cases -- comes down to the nature of the alleged crimes committed. Terrorism differs from "conventional" murder and property destruction in that it aims not only to accomplish those acts themselves but furthermore to leverage those acts to achieve a more profound psychological impact on a whole community. That is, it differs from conventional crimes with respect to the motive of the perpetrators and with respect to the impact of the crime on the victims' community. These things are not material facts of the case -- they are not preconditions of the trial; they are things that can only be demonstrated at trial. Therefore, to use them as a basis for a separate criminal process is precisely backwards.

Consider the difference between first-degree murder (with premeditation) and second-degree murder (without). These crimes do not differ in their outcomes -- someone is dead in either case. They differ with respect to the intention of the perpetrator: if someone kills someone else meticulously, in cold blood, we deem it a more serious offense than if the murder is one of passion. But the existence of premeditation is for the jury to decide, not the state. The police collect evidence; the prosecution makes its case. The defense makes its case. The jury decides whether the standard of proof has been met.

Imagine if instead we tried murder cases like we do terrorism cases: if you are accused of second-degree murder, you will face a normal procedure. You will have rights to a speedy jury trial, to face your accusers and the evidence against you, and to a verdict of innocence unless your guilt is proven beyond a reasonable doubt. But if you are accused of first-degree murder, at the prosecutor's discretion, you will have none of these rights. You can be detained indefinitely. You can be tried in secret, without a jury. And you can be convicted on the basis of secret evidence to which you have no opportunity to respond. The government need only point a finger and say, "I accuse you," and you can be thrown into a dark hole from which you may or may not ever emerge. Would we call this justice?

It is a founding legal principle of the United States that those accused of crimes cannot be stripped of their rights on the say-so of government officials. We cannot abandon this principle, even in the face of the most heinous crimes we can imagine, without losing the very virtue and character of our country. There will always be those fearful and uncreative people who claim that the problems of today are so unlike those of yesterday that we must forget our history and discard all precedent. We must not hold these self-styled great men accountable according to long-established standards; instead we must for our own good allow them to have their way with us, trusting implicitly and indefinitely that they will one day restore our rights to us. I say: nonsense.

Jerry for Governor (Again)

I just caught the last few minutes of an interview with California Attorney General and gubernatorial candidate (and former mayor, and former governor, ...) Jerry Brown. I like the guy already.

The interviewer asked Brown what he's learned since his first term as governor in the 1970's. He gave two answers:

1. When he was younger, he didn't appreciate the importance of each "personality" in the legislature. You can't ram your ideas through; you have to work with people -- individually -- to succeed.
2. He's learned that having good ideas isn't enough; you have to understand how to implement them, step by step.

Meanwhile, Meg Whitman, his main opponent in the gubernatorial race at this point, is sounding off with a message we heard from Governor Schwarzenegger when he first ran several years ago: we need a "business perspective." It's time to bring in someone untainted by any political experience to tell those children in Sacramento what to do, to sweep away the old and bring in the new. But it hasn't worked out that way, has it?

California is completely paralyzed by what I like to call "good idea politics," by which I mean: I and a few of my friends think ponies for kids with terminal cancer would be a good idea, so we have 10 or 12 people sign a petition to get an initiative on the statewide ballot. A few months and a couple of celebrity endorsements later, and 7% of all gas tax revenue collected from lumber magnates in suburban areas who drive cars making no more than 27 miles per gallon has been constitutionally earmarked to buy ponies for dying children. Wash, rinse, and repeat several hundred times, and you get the constitutional and legislative state of affairs in California. Who would I want wading into that morass to serve my interests: the guy with more years of experience at it than I have years on this earth, who knows everyone and understands the importance of working with them to get the job done, or the newbie who thinks she can order people around on the basis of her position and personality and everything will turn out OK?